A/N: Sekiro is.

Kicking.

My.

ASS.

COMPLETELY!

That aside, its quite a fun game but that BLOODY MONK is annoying. I don't find it too hard, its all the more enjoyable when I beat a boss. My only complain-and even this is a minor one-would be the amount of minibosses. Their's actually a fair amount of them, surprisingly.

Another game that has swiftly become near and dear to my heart is good 'ol Bloodborne; I may be late to the party but I'm enjoying the hell out of it alongside Shadows Die Twice. After much trial and tribulation I finally beat the Orphan of Kos as well as *spoiler* and *spoiler* now I'm well on my way through New Game Plus angling for one of the endings I didn't get.

Anyone care for some jolly cooperation?

But enough about me, you didn't come here for that.

So here were are, me taking a stab at a popular franchise and hoping to hell everyone likes it. Now, I did a Naruto version of this in the "Not Going Home" series, but then I received this request from someone-who has since asked to remain anonymous-and I thought I'd give it a whirl.

I think we can all agree that Bloodborne is one hell of a trip, no?

This story is inspired by the tale "Why Can't I Just Take The Ring After I Fight Atorias?" written by none other than Gensh. For anyone familiar with that mad-and brilliant!-bastard, well. There's an idea of where I'm taking this. Dark and serious of course, yet with its own distinct brand of humor as well.

Now, I proudly present for your viewing pleasure...

...YOU DIED (AGAIN!)

Sorry if its short~!

"Fear the old blood, they said!"

"Fear it, they said!"

"Feeeaaaar it!"

~?

Awakening

Have you ever had a dream before?

What am I saying, of course you have! Most-if not all of us-experience dreams in one way or another. Then I'm sure you must know what its like to wake up from one; that fleeting moment when reality and fantasy blur and you're not quite sure where you are. You know what I'm talking about; that strange slightly euphoric high, that sensation of not quite knowing where you are, yet not caring all the same?

That is a dream.

Some are lucid. Others are not. Some we remember. Others remain forgotten entirely upon our return to the waking world. We often go about our daily lives and pay them no further mind. Yet nevertheless that strange feeling of something persists, as though we've had a grand adventure-or nightmare-that we can't quite recall, a thought lurking at the edge of our reality. Ah, but what is a dream but our innermost thoughts given shape and form? Our happiest moments, our greatest fears...

Yes, that would explain a number of things given my...situation.

My first inkling came in the form of a stiff back-what happened to my bed?-and a pounding headache.

Without thinking I rose up and promptly paid dearly for it; because the bed beneath me chose that moment to splinter like rotten driftwood and sent me tumbling to the floor in a writhing pile of arms and legs. Thankfully my head took the brunt of the impact. Wait. Was that good...?

"Anybody get the number of that bus...?"

A stabbing lance of agony sheared through my skull in response and I quietly clamped my right hand down upon it. Somehow, that only made the pain even worse. Gritting my teeth, I found was left with no recourse but to ride it out. Damnit, it felt like someone was trying go drive a spear through the back of my head! Was I injured? No? Panicking, frail hands flitted over my thin form. No? Face? Check. Eyes? Check. Beard? Still there. Praise the beard!

My last coherent memory consisted of an all-night session of Bloodborne with friends and then...

...moonlight?

Yet when I reached for the next chain of memory only darkness answered; a yawning void swallowing up all thought, all form, all semblance of sanity. Yet I couldn't help but dwell upon it. As though I were on the verge of a great epiphany, standing upon the precipice of change, and I need only take that last tottering step over the edge, make that fateful plunge-

Somehow my body realized what my inquisitive mind could not and jerked itself upright, hauling me to my feet and away from that strange haunting image.

With that I dared to open my eyes; not to fresh morning sunshine, but gloom.

A rather familiar gloom at that.

Silence reigned supreme.

I knew this place.

How could I not? I'd seen it countless times, but always from a screen. Ingrained into my memory as surely as my own name. My mind balked at once, recoiling from it as surely as the plague itself. No. Nonsense. Surely I was dreaming. Yes! That must be it. Clearly I had too much Bloodborne on the brain. Now I was dreaming about it. Ha! That was my own damn fault, I supposed. If I wasn't playing Bloodborne, or writing Bloodborne, then I was dreaming about it. Nervous laughter bubbled up in my throat until I nearly choked on it.

But that niggling doubt persisted, burrowing like a worm in my gut.

Trembling hands fumbled at the nearest door, felt its sturdy frame as surely as any other. Warily, I pushed it open, flinching at the sullen creak that followed. Broken glass crunched beneath my boots as I gingerly forced the frame to part, wincing at every tiny crack. Ooh! A very realistic dream, then? Ha!

Surely I couldn't be hurt in a dream.

Right? Right?

...right?

As if to punish me for that horribly naive belief, the pungent scent of decay-of ruined flesh!-wafted up from below the stairs and hit me like a body blow. It banished all thoughts of dreaming to the winds. No dream could possibly smell like this; so foul, so reeking, so...wrong. Bile rose in my throat and I gagged, doubling over as my stomach waged war upon me. Against all odds I caught sight of myself in the shattered shards below, and my pale, admittedly stiff visage gaped back at me.

"Oh, no." my hoarse voice croaked out.

A brief cursory glance at my attire-very familiar attire!-merely confirmed my suspicions. On numb legs I tottered down the stairs, heart in my throat. Surely not. Surely this was just a bad dream, even if the smell, oh dear god the smell the smell, why is it so bad I can't evenurkgonnabesick...

With that the dawn finally broke and I nearly bit my tongue clear out of my mouth.

This time, I really did choke on the laughter. Mental breakdowns. Fun.

My hands tore at the hood concealing my face, to no avail.

"Noooooo no no no! Of all the places! Why here?!"

To my dismay, something answered.

The softest of growls, punctuated by the wet shucking sound of teeth tearing through bloated flesh. I froze, instinctively flattening myself against the wall, to no avail. Somehow, I knew what I would find there, just down the hall, its flea-ridden body stooped low over a ravaged corpse. It was by all accounts a beast. A foul, wolfish creature with its back to me, happily feasting upon the flesh of the slain.

That...thing was far larger than it should have been.

By my reckoning it should have been a flight of stairs down and very much away from me. Yet the longer I looked on the more certain I became. Either this was the most lucid fever dream I'd ever had-unlikely!-or against all odds I'd somehow wound up in a city of nightmares. My mind was far past point of denial now, it'd leaped right into the bargaining stage, pleading and whimpering for escape.

Why me?

Still, there was nothing to be gained by sitting there like an idiot; the beast would doubtlessly notice me if I lingered overlong. My first instinct was to creep back the way I came, but that way lay a locked door and no amount of pounding or shouting on my part would do anything to rouse the occupant beyond its threshold. Assuming there was one. The longer I lingered the more certain I became-fear choked the very life out of me, urging me to move, to do something, anything, because if that big bad bastard saw me...

In all fairness, I tried to sneak by.

I really, truly did.

Limited combat expertise aside, there was no way-no way in hell!-I was even going to attempt to take on a beast like that without a weapon. I was unarmed, unarmored, with no way of even remotely defending myself against those teeth, those claws, that slavering maw...

Unless one counted my fists.

As if I could spplex a fucking werewolf!

To my credit, I nearly made it past the furry bastard.

Slow steady steps carried me on a parallel path toward the beast, muted by the harsh crunch of broken bone and shattered sinew. I almost made it. Really, I thought the gods had finally smiled upon me, that whatever I'd done to offend them, to find myself here in this dream-nightmare-reality had finally been forgiven and oh thank goodness...

...creak.

Then a board groaned traitorously beneath one of my boots. I froze. I'm sorry. I simply couldn't help myself. Every fiber of my being clamped down, refusing to budge so much as an inch. In the end, this sealed my fate. Amidst that horrible, awful realization that I'd blundered, I heard rather than saw the beast move. I had time enough for a single moment of mind-numbing towering terror as warm, fetid breath brushed the back of my neck. Once again my entire body tensed up against my will-and wouldn't that just make things worse?-but against my better judgement, I raised my hands.

"Look, I'm really sorry about disturbing your meal, so can you just let me go-ACK?!"

I had just enough time to yelp as the beast barreled into me.

My throat was torn out in short, spectacular order.

I didn't even have enough time to scream.

My final, suffering sight was thus:

A familiar pair of red letters.

YOU DIED.

A/N: And so begins my first attempt at a Bloodborne tale.

I debated long and hard about this, and in the end, I decided to go with a self-insert story, if only because I want to try something for a new perspective. A "Hunter" who isn't really a Hunter at all, simply someone with a wealth of game knowledge, a snarky sense of humor, and a saw blade...

...I'm gonna have a bad time, aren't I?

And yes, the character's description suits me to a T; in real life I'm absurdly tall I keep bashing my head on low doorways.

Well, I've said about all I have to say. Hope you'll join me for this journey.

So in the Immortal Words of Atlas...

...Review...Would You Kindly?

And enjoy the previews!

(Previews)

I'd blundered.

"REEEEEEEEEEEE!"

"Nononoshitfuckcraaaap!"

The Cleric Beast beat me to death in short order.

"Welcome home, good hunter." a familiar voice tugged me from the void.

Fear?

Funny thing about game physics.

They REALLY don't apply in the real world.

In short? I climbed that damn gate faster than a certain mad spider.

After all, fear of one's imminent demise, however transient, can be an EXCELLENT motivator.

"Mister Hunter?"

My mouth opened...

...and promptly clicked shut.

After a moment's consideration, I turned my back.

"Fuck it. Hop on my back and I'll take you there myself."

R&R~! =D